


Doctor Kart

by dutiesofcare



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Mario Kart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 10:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12885786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutiesofcare/pseuds/dutiesofcare
Summary: Clara and Twelve are playing Mario Kart and they get a little bit overly competitive.





	Doctor Kart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secondsineternity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondsineternity/gifts).



> Megan (@Twelveslapels), this is for you.
> 
> This turned to be a little longer than I had intended, let's just say I got a little carried away with Twelve and Clara playing Mario Kart.

The Doctor spun around the foreign object in his hands, wrinkling his nose as he went. His shoulders weighed from Clara’s gaze upon him, but he couldn’t grant her back his glare, for he was too busy trying to handle what he held. “I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do with _this_ , Clara.”

Clara eyed him suspiciously, “It’s a _Wii_ controller, Doctor, and you’re holding it wrong,” she scolded him, unmercifully yanking it from his hands to show him the right way.

He was hesitant to retrieve it. “A _wee_ controller? What is it supposed to do, help you go to the bathroom?” he scoffed, “Don’t you humans have better things to control?”

Clara shook her head. “ _Wii_ , not _wee_ , Doctor. It’s a videogame—you’re holding it upside down now.”

Making a face, he turned it around. “Like this?”

She nodded. “Really, Doctor, if you can’t handle a simple Wii controller, how do manage to control the TARDIS?”

“Well, I—”

“Oh, that’s right. You don’t,” she displayed her lips flat for a moment, before returning her eyes to the telly, clicking on her Mii profile.

“Rude,” he muffed underneath his breath, although he doubted she had heard him. “Why is this thing inside a _wheel_?”

Clara rested her back against the couch, feet messily thrown above the coffee table. “Because we’re playing Mario Kart. It’s a racing game, we’re driving a car.”

He let the wheel fall to his lap. “What about we get inside the TARDIS and I’ll take you to a _real_ racing camp? We’ll get inside fancy racing cars and see who’s the best at it, what do you say?”

She turned her head to stare at him with her brows high, “Can I send a flying shell on your way to get you down?”

The Doctor frowned his forehead, “I don’t think that’s viable, no.”

“Then we’re sticking to Mario Kart,” Clara stated, not giving him much of a choice. “C’mon, grab your wheel. You’ll have fun, I promise.”

Ducking his lips forwards, he agreed. “Alright. What do I have to do?”

She raised her own remote in the air, attracting his attention. “Here. Press your thumb to _2_ and you’ll move forward. Press _1_ and you’ll move backwards. Along the road, there will be several blocks with question marks on them; you have to drive right into them, to treat yourself with bombs and such, that you’ll use on the other players. Press _B_ to release them.”

“Other players meaning _you_ ,” he pondered, although his voice didn’t sound much of a question tone.

“Well, yes, but there is a total of twelve players in the game,” she clarified.

“Including you.”

“Yes.”

“And you want me to aim _bombs and such_ at you,” his ocean eyes were large at the idea.

Once more, she nodded. “Yes. That’s the purpose of the game, Doctor. So you’ll get the other players behind.”

Out of the blue, the Doctor threw his remote away, right after, crossing his arms before his chest. “I can’t do that, Clara! I can’t hurt you!”

Inevitably, Clara spasmed with her hands. “Are you _kidding me_?”

“I’m a man of _peace,_ Clara!” he yelped, his voice higher pitched than before, “I refuse to cause you any harm, I’m sorry, I’m not doing this.”

She threw her head back. “It’s just a _game._ A videogame! You’re not inflicting me any real actual harm!”

He denied with a shift of the head, “We’re inciting violence!”

“No, we’re encouraging _competitiveness,_ ” she emphasized the last word, “What’s wrong with being a little competitive?!”

Still, he wouldn’t budge, “Find us something else to do. I’m not playing this _Mario Car_ of yours.”

“Mario Kart,” she corrected with a sigh, “Please, Doctor, do this for me.”

“Nope.”

Leaning forwards, Clara showed her inner lips, making her eyes the biggest they could be. Her head was bent sideways, allowing her hair to fall upon her jawline in a perfect lining. At first, he wouldn’t dare to look her way, but her refusal to move obliged him to take a quick peek at her. And he admitted defeat the moment he did.

“ _Fine_ ,” he snapped angrily, “I’ll play with you.”

In pure excitement, Clara dashed herself against him, almost suffocating him with her arms as she kissed him in the cheek. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” he grunted, not even bothering to uncling her from him, for he knew she would only let go of him if she pleased to.

Eventually, she did. “Alright, get your controller. Use your directional pad to choose your character.”

The Doctor meticulously traveled along each row of characters. “There are so many, how am I supposed to pick just one?”

Knowing they were still off to a _journey_ until he settled on everything, Clara brought her legs to near her hips and rested her head against his shoulder. “Just get the one you relate to the most.”

“They’re _cartoons_ , I don’t relate to any,” he fussed his brows together, “Which one is the good guy?”

“Mario, the one with the red head,” she pointed, “He’s the hero, although you might say he’s a psychopath, since he walks around jumping on the heads of others and killing all the creatures that stand against him.”

“And he’s the _hero_?” he was perplexed, “I wonder what it is that the _villain_ does.”

“They usually try to kill Mario,” she uttered, a slim smile across her face.

The Doctor huffed, “Is there a character that _doesn’t_ have murderous tendencies?”

“Well, there’s Princess Peach. She’s the damsel in distress who Mario has to save.”

He shook his head. “I’m not very fond of this gender role. Besides, does she know she’s going from one potential killer to another?”

“Word is that Princess Peach and Mario have a platonic relationship, so I don’t think she minds,” she shuddered, “You can also play with the infant version of the characters if you’d like.”

“Putting children behind the wheel? I think I’ll pass,” he nearly gasped at the thought. “Who’s this green wide nosed one?”

“Ah, Yoshi,” she introduced, “Really nice fellow. He allows Mario to ride on his back, and in return, Mario smacks him in the head so he’ll stick his tongue out.”

“Ah, the poor and oppressed one,” he sang melodically, “I’ll stick to this one.”

“Great,” she yelped, relieved that they were _almost_ done.

“Which one did you choose?”

“Rosalina,” she declared, “She’s a real badass. She’s pretty much the Queen of Stars.”

He chuckled, “Suits you just fine, then.”

Clara smirked with her eyes, “Are you saying I’m the queen of the stars?”

“Well, you surely act like you,” he playfully accused.

“Shut up,” she demanded, slightly patted him in the shoulder. “Okay, now you must choose your racing car or bike.”

He tightened his eyes at all the options. “Heh, I’ll just go whichever one do you choose.”

“Can’t,” she mumbled firmly, “Our characters are from different categories. You get the medium vehicles, whereas I get the big ones.”

The Doctor scoffed in disbelief. “This is alienphobia, Clara.”

She rolled her eyes until they reached the back of her head. “Just choose one randomly, it doesn’t matter.”

He let his tongue path across his lips. “Will this do?”

“Yes, terrific,” she gratefully pressed the button that led them to the final step. “Okay, we’ll start with the easy roads and work it up. Alright?”

He agreed, watching as she pressed the Mushroom Cup and chose the second road, the screen diverging into a brown and green meadow. He peeked at her to be sure he was doing it right; “How do I drive again?”

“Just spin it around,” she explained, “You’re ready? It’s about to start. Three, two, one… Go!”

The Doctor pressed his thumb hardly against the _2_ button as she spoke, panicking the moment the race started. “Clara! It’s broken! My car won’t budge!”

She immediately broke into laughter. “That’s because you’ve overworked your motor and it burned down, Doctor. No, don’t stick your thumb out, it’ll regenerate.”

He raised his chin in the air, “It’s speeding up…!”

“Very good,” she patronized him, glancing at him with the corner of her eyes as he clumsily swung the controller around, so brutally his kart was racing in a zigzag across the road. “Doctor, Doctor, steady your hands.”

“Hm?” he stretched his arms as far away from his torso as he could, slightly turning the remote around, “Like this?”

“Yes, but this isn’t a real racing car, Doctor, you don’t have to be this rigid. Lighten up,” instructed she.

“It’s not that easy, Clara!” he cried out loud, “Why am I suddenly losing speed? _Clara_!”

“You’re on the grass, get back to the main road.”

He did as he was told. “Uhh, I just saw a bomb block. I’m getting it!”

And the moment he hit it, he was thrown in the air and Clara giggled loudly.

“Clara! Your game is broken!” he alleged, “I did exactly as you explained!”

Clara was laughing so hard that tears were starting to escape the corner or her eyes. “You walked right into a bomb, Doctor. It was a trick, didn’t you noticed that the question mark was hanging upside down?”

He cleared his throat, trying to get to the finish line before any further faults. “That’s cheating. This game is dirty.”

“Because you have never tricked some alien evil force, have you now,” she remarked sarcastically. “Come on, you’re almost done with the lap.”

He managed to finish it without any other flaws, even a few more miles down the road. Then, he suddenly yelled, “Clara! Why are there cows!”

“Why shouldn’t there be cows?!” she hissed as he got stuck amidst the animals. “Just get around them.”

It took him a while, but he managed to get past them. “This block has a question mark the right way down. I’m hitting it,” he did it without much effort, “I got a missile with a face and arms. What does it do?”

“Press _B_ ,” she said and he obeyed, “You’re too far behind; the game’s trying to help you reach the other players.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “I went from 12th to 7th! Clara, I’m winning!”

Clara made a face, “I wouldn’t _exactly_ call it winning, but you’re getting there.”

He ignored her, “What place are you in?”

“First place, obviously.”

“Why is it obvious?” he questioned.

“Because I’m good at it.”

The Doctor scoffed, “You watch yourself, Clara Oswald. I’m getting the hang of it. I’m about to _beat your arse_ ,” he gave his last words as prolonged pause between one another.

Smugly, she let her controller fall off her hands. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’ve just crossed the finish line. You lose, Doctor.”

Feeling his blood filled with competitiveness, he bent his spine down, idealistically shifting to a position he would race faster. Somehow, he managed to come in fourth. “Not bad for a started. I shall have no mercy on you as I’ll crush you on the next road.”

With daring eyes, Clara searched for the next road. She settled on the Coconut Mall one. “Be ready for defeat, Doctor.”

“I make your words mine,” he teased, although his voice lacked any amusing tone. The counting down came to an ending and they set off. “See! I didn’t burn the engine this time!”

Clara rested her wrists against her tights. “And yet, I’m still ahead of you.”

“I’m coming for you, Clara.”

He allowed his car to fly above a water fountain, with the only purpose of hitting the item block. He only didn’t expect to slip on a banana the moment he landed back on the ground, getting all the other cars to pass him by and a devious smirk to spread across her lips. “No! _Clara_! I’m last again!”

Her laugh was cruel and atrocious, “The poetry of this game is that it mimics life. Like reality, you’re winning and suddenly there’s a green shell on your way that sends you all the way to the back.”

“I don’t like this philosophy of life,” he grunted, falling with his body to the side as he abruptly took a curve he didn’t know it was coming.

Unlike him, she remained peacefully still. “Of course you don’t. You’re usually the shell that aims right into bad people’s lives.”

“You’re welcome,” he whirred, diving into another block. “I got a blue flying shell. What does it do?”

Her eyes widened, “ _No,_ don’t you dare—”

With the only purpose of _pissing her off_ , he released the item. At first, he couldn’t understand why nothing had happened, but soon the blue shell signed in her screen and sent her flying in the air. The Doctor let out a wicked laugh, as her position descended from first to third place. “ _Ha ha!_ See, Clara, this is life. You’re winning and suddenly there’s genius handsome alien from space that sends you a shell on your way.”

“Shut up,” she commanded, slowly returning to her previous pace. “Besides, you’re still in 5th, you don’t get a saying.”

He brought his feet to the edge of the couch as he sped up. “ _Fourth_ , you mean.”

Clara straightened up, for the game had then become _serious_. “I’m still ahead of you, Doctor, you’re not going to win.”

“Aren’t I?” he provoked, “I’m just behind you, Clara.”

Using his screen for guidance, she adjusted her bike exactly in front of his car. He was starting to gain speed from the draft of wind when she threw a banana on his way, causing him to inevitably ride into it. His kart slipped around several times, and it was right after thrown in the air by a parking car nearby, making the distance between them increase.

“ _Clara_! I’m getting run over by a car!” he whined desperately.

With the main intention of showing herself off, she offered him her hand. “Give me it. I’ll finish it for you.”

“What?!” he snorted, “But then you’ll _lose_!”

“Don’t be silly, Doctor,” she whiffed, “I’ve already finished.

His jaw fell open at her boldness. “Worry not, I can handle it, _thanks_ ,” he grunted ironically, successfully getting past the cars and taking one last curve towards the finish line. He made weird sound with his throat when he noticed he had come in fifth and she, once again, in first place.

“ _Argh!_ You’re cheating!” he accused annoyedly, fume pouring out of his pores as he stared at the overall ranking.

Her body showed every sign of not giving a _damn_. “I did _not_ cheat, I just adjusted myself to the reality of the game.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Shut up and move to the next road. And I promise you, Clara, you’re going _down_.”

She tilted her head, choosing the DK Mountain road. “You keep saying that, Doctor, and you keep letting _yourself_ down.”

The Doctor leaned on his elbows with a straight face on. “I was still warming up. Now, the game is on.”

“The game is on, hm?” Clara pestered him, “You do realize that the race’s already begun and you forgot to accelerate, right?”

He became so nervous at the notion he almost dropped the controller to the floor, but managed to press the speeding button even with the remote hanging inches from the ground. “Clara! You’re cheating—oh my god, I’m flying! I don’t have control over my kart! Clara, help!”

Her laughing only increased according to his growing panic. “Chill, Doctor, you’ll get the control back once you land.”

He let out a relieved breath once he did. “I’ve got this, Clara. _Uh_ , another missile!” he was enthusiastic like a young child. He yowled when he returned to his character form. “Ha! Third place! See, Clara? I’ve got it all under control.”

Clara blew a lack of her hair away from her face. “Yeah?! If I were you, I’d stop bragging and pay attention to where I’m _headed_.”

“What do you mean—” his eyes suddenly enlarged, “I just drove off a cliff! Clara, I’m _dead_!”

“You’re not, see? You were brought back to the road.”

“I’m last again!” he was obnoxious, “I’d be better off dead!”

Accidentally – although he very much doubted it – Clara hit him with her knee, hardly. “Stop being so dramatic. We’re still on the first lap, there’s still a chance.”

“Is there?” he groaned, right after hitting a block and getting yet _another_ missile. His eyes sparkled, “ _There is_!”

That time, he ended up in fifth, just in time to finish the first lap. Alongside the next one, he got a total of three red shells, which he used precisely on the fourth, third and second place player, respectively. Until he reached second place himself, standing right behind her. “My time is here, Clara.”

She bit her lower lip, “You’re going to jinx it, Doctor.”

They were descended towards the same cliff that first drove him off, when the Doctor’s mind illuminated like a lighting bump. With a diabolic smirk, he rode right into her kart, instead of focusing on the turn he was ought to tale. His plan worked meticulously well, since the impact led her off the road and sent him right around the curve. He giggled in evil joy.

“You bloody arsehole,” Clara breathlessly cussed.

“Language,” he scolded her, however he didn’t care the slightest bit.

Clara glued her eyes to the screen, still able to see his character a few miles ahead. He was starting to cross the bridge when she was lucky enough to get a red shell, and didn’t wait a single second to throw it at him. He was hit when he was about to cross the line, granting her the way to beat him to it.

“Yes!” she screamed in happiness, jumping onto her feet and raising her arms high. When she looked his way, Clara couldn’t help but howl at his blank expression, for he was still in denial about what just happened. She fell back to his side, curling her body in a ball as she was unable to stop.

“This game… is maddening!” he blurted out, lips remaining half open and ears hurting from the sound of her unending laugh. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

It was still a matter of several moments before she managed to control herself. When she did, she was crying and out of breath. “Come on, there’s just one road left.”

He shook his head repeatedly. “Nope. I’m _done_ with this humiliation.”

She spun her body around until she was facing him, half sitting on the couch, half across his lap. “Here’s the deal. Our last road will be Rainbow Road; it’s the hardest of them all. Whoever gets the better ranking, wins.”

The Doctor seemed to consider it for a while. “If you win, what will you get?”

Clara raised her left eyebrow. “You’ll give me massages, whenever I ask, for the next _month_.”

“How about a ticket for a spa?” he prompted and she gave him a look. “Fine, you’ll have your massages. But if I win, you’re going to read me _out loud_ all of Les Misérables.”

Her lower lip fell down, forming and _o_ with the upper one. “That’s _torture_ , Doctor, I don’t have enough saliva for that!”

“Because giving you slow massages is no less of a torture,” he belittled, “That’s the deal. Are you in or out?”

“ _Fine_ ¸ I’m in,” she snapped, resting back against the couch, facing forward. “Only because you’re going to lose.”

He adjusted the controller on his hands. “Bring it, Clara.”

The race soon started. The Doctor squinted at every curve, throwing his body along the swing of the remote, inevitably falling onto her, getting cursed at until he swung the opposite way. They would eventually fall off the road, but Clara still kept at a solid fifth, whilst he traveled among sixth and seventh place.

Until they reached the final lap and the Doctor couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing as she was so concentrated on the game, he grabbed the opportunity to snatch the controller from her hands, bringing it high in the air because he knew she wouldn’t be able to reach it, while still driving with the right arm.

“Doctor!” she squealed, desperately trying to get the remote back, but he was body blocking her. By then, she’d already fallen to eighth. “This isn’t fair! You’re cheating! Give it back!”

“Nope!” he exclaimed, freeing himself from her attacks by standing up. He held her wheel so high that, unless she suddenly grew two feet high, she would never be able to retrieve it. “I’m going to win! Start saving your saliva, Clara!”

Desperately, Clara stood above the couch, not waiting a single millisecond to jump on him. All he did was to stumble on his own feet and bent down a little, but carried on playing, without much effort. “I’m going to win!”

“Gimme, Doctor!” she screamed, giving several little leaps to try to get his arm down, unsuccessfully. She struggled to pull his sleeve down, but his muscles were rigid and wouldn’t budge. As a last resource, Clara started wrestling him to get his own controller, until they both ended up on the floor, tangled and panting.

Still, the Doctor didn’t stop playing, twisting his neck in a weird angle to grant his eyes a view of the screen. “I see the finish line!”

Clara once again threw her body above his, getting him by surprise – he assumed she had already given up. In order not to let the controller fall from his hands, he was obliged to press his palms flatly and hardly to it.

And the screen suddenly turned black and the music faded away, leaving the Doctor bewildered. “What…? What just happened? I was winning! I was about to cross the finish line! I was about to beat your arse! _Clara_!”

In attempts to catch her breath, she dropped to the floor on her back, arms widely spread. “You turned it off, Doctor.”

He mimicked her movements, landing right next to her. “I turned what—can I do that?!”

She stared at him with narrow eyes. “Yes, you can. And you did. You lost, Doctor.”

“But I was about to cross the line!” he argued, disbelieved.

“Were you, now?” she provoked, “I didn’t see it.”

“ _Clara_!” he cried her name, “That’s not fair!”

She raised her head from the ground. “Neither was you getting the controller from me!”

“I was just doing whatever I had to do to win!” he justified, “You never said it wasn’t allowed to yank the wheels away from the other players!”

Gradual and dreadfully, Clara moved to a sitting position. “You left me all sore. You owe me a massage, Doctor.”

“But you didn’t win,” he debated, watching as she rubbed the back of her neck. Were she doing it in actual discomfort or just to make him feel bad, he couldn’t tell. Both, probably.

“How would you know?” she offered him a dirty look. “You turned it off before the ranking was shown.”

Sighing noticeably, he admitted defeat. Not to the game, but to herself. Silently, the Doctor led her back to the couch, making her lie facing down. Soon after, her hands were on her spine, giving gentle and slow massages. He didn’t need to see her expression to know she was proudly smiling in victory.

“You could at least read me a few verses of Les Misérables,” he pledged.

Clara moaned in pleasure. “Tell you watch, once you’re done _unsoring_ me, we’ll watch the movie. Then we’ll both be pleased.”

Smiling, the Doctor agreed, digging his fingertips deep into her skin. “We could attend the play in West End, if you’d like. I’m sure I have tickets somewhere in the TARDIS.”

Glancing at him, she smirked. “Then what are you waiting for? Unsore me faster, Doctor.”

He chuckled, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback here or on twitter (@dutiesofcare) is much appreciated :)


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